


The Unlucky Crew of the Pelemar

by Serriya (Keolah)



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Humor, Islands, Original Universe, Sailing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1996-07-21
Updated: 1996-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ship Pelemar is wrecked in a hurricane, stranding its crew on an island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Unlucky Crew of the Pelemar

Winds of hurricane speeds buffeted the schooner Pelemar. The ship had left Whitewater Inlet yesterday morning, and the weather forecasters there had said nothing about a storm. Pelemar was bound for Greyfin Island, but it really didn't look like they'd get there at this rate.

Suddenly, there was a sickening crunch, and everyone on board was tossed about like bits of powder in a mage's pouch. Jagged rocks ripped apart the lower decks. The survivors rapidly scrambled away.

Among these were the ship's captain, mess officer, and five others. Seeing a village down the coast, they headed in that direction.

Captain Cedec Dazigga, needless to say, was rather disturbed at having her ship torn to ribbons. The mess officer, Thisby Waters, was upset at losing his spice collection. Of them, two, including the captain, were elves, three were humans, one a dwarf, and one a gnome. Ships nowadays tended to have considerable racial mixture, to properly blend those skills of each race.

As they reached the village of humans, several dark-skinned islanders pointed at them and started babbling, looking full of awe and also awful. Most of them looked as though they hadn't bathed in their entire lifetimes.

The captain finally quieted them enough to speak to them. "We are of the schooner Pelemar. Our ship now lies in pieces due to the recent storm. We require assistance to return to the mainland. What island is this?"

Apparently, they islanders only understood that last sentence. One, and old man with gray-white hair, replied, "What name belong island? Leblom be name belong island."

The crew of the Pelemar was a bit taken aback by the islander's strange way of speaking, though they had no trouble understanding it. The captain again attempted to get across her point, while the winds died down and rain ceased.

"The ship that belongs to us has been destroyed by the storm. We need help to go back to the mainland. Can you help us? Is there a boat which belongs to you that we could use to go back to the mainland?" She accompanied this speech by wild gestures.

A young woman carrying an empty basket said, "Boat belong you break? Big air go fast, break boat belong you?"

Thisby Waters gave the woman a puzzled look. "Well, you could say that."

Cedec was quickly becoming frustrated at these islanders' inherent lack of understanding. Why they spoke this backwater version of Kalorese was beyond her. "We take boat belong you back to big island?" she blurted quickly, attempting to use the simplest words possible.

However, it was the most perfectly wrong thing to say, but she had no idea why. The islanders became angry at once. "You belong big island! You take boat belong us!" cried the old man. Then he said to the others, "You take 'em big cold rock."

The sailors really didn't want to fight the natives, beings greatly outnumbered for one, and didn't want to injure innocent people for another. Thus they were taken to the "big cold rock," which turned out to be the local version of a dungeon. There the crew of the Pelemar pondered the mess they had gotten themselves into.

"Ugh!" cried one of the humans--Scythe Sworder--upon seeing a rat in their cell.

"Oh, relax, Scythe," grunted the dwarf, Kleptal Freskkul. "I have seen people who shall remain nameless," he said with a sideways glance at another human, "eat those things."

Scythe gulped, and looked like he was about to faint for a moment. Then he took a brief glance at Ashell Caravan. The human woman gave the rat a hungry look, before a withering glare from Captain Cedec caused her to flinch.

"This is terrible!" cried Glibban the gnome.

Sardonyx, one of the humans, said, "Maybe if we could find a way to light a fire."

The others waited for her to finish her thought, but she didn't. That was one of Sardonyx's eccentricities. The other elf, Talmar, sighed. "I know this is a big cold rock, and I'm freezing."

Now that was one of Talmar's eccentricities. She finished Sard's thoughts, usually in ways Sardonyx hadn't even been thinking of. Thus Ashell gathered moss into the center of their cell, and Cedec stared hard at it. A spark flared in the moss, and soon caught on fire. The poor crew, however, was nearly smoked out. 

Abruptly, the cell door opened, and the crew of the Pelemar was herded outside. Islanders tried to put out the fire, babbling in that odd dialect of theirs. At that point they started worshipping the mainlanders.

"Show big light, big man!" shouted one.

Captain Cedec stared, shrugged, and muttered a simple light spell. A bulb of glowing light appeared above her head. The islanders fell to their knees.

"Now will you give us a boat so we can go back to the mainland?" asked Thisby.

One villager scratched his head. "You of mainland? Not of big island Unar?"

Suddenly they understood. Unarian pirates had been raiding these islands for years. "No, we are not of Unar. We are of Hannaderres, on the mainland," replied Cedec.

Since the islanders now thought they were dieties, they gladly gave them a boat and sent them--good riddance--back to the mainland.

Even years afterward, Thisby Waters still moaned about the lost spice collection, and Cedec stared hard at moss annually to commemmorate the journey to Leblom.


End file.
